


Vegetable smoothies and silver linings.

by Panatlantic



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2020-12-07 13:48:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20976926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Panatlantic/pseuds/Panatlantic
Summary: Meet cute (?) AU. Tony is recovering from palladium poisoning, Steve is a *cough* pool technician with a job to do.





	1. Chapter 1

Tony Stark was convalescing. Or at least that was the official excuse.

Palladium poisoning, as it turned out, was the proverbial bitch. It equated to a paranoid Pepper Potts micromanaging his life (she may have been just a little pissy about his negligence in mentioning his potential demise) and enforcing a recovery regime that included eating healthy and.. ugh… regular sleep.

Doctor Cho’s ridiculously detailed list of commandments included truly terrible mandates like, thou shall not drink alcohol (ridiculous!), thou shall eat 5 servings of vegetables per day (preposterous!) and thou shall spend 30 minutes per day in the sunshine (barbaric!). 17 seconds in a tanning bed proved that it was not a viable alternative. Confined spaces were not for Tony – possibly a throw back to his confinement in Afghanistan.

“I have a pool?” Remarked Tony curiously. He hadn’t really been of a mood to explore the towers leisure facilities. Imminent death and all that.

“You have six pools Tony. This is the only outdoor pool for your exclusive use.” Pepper explained.

“And I… what? Just lie there? For thirty minutes?”

“That’s correct . _Tony..._.” And Pepper was using _the voice_. The voice meant he was not going to be able to negotiate on this one. “Every day. No shirt. Dr Cho says…”

“Yes. Yes. Vitamin D. Endorphins. Skin health. Uh… and I believe it said 10-30 minutes, why are we jumping straight to the maximum? You know I can take pills for vitamin D right? We have Wi-Fi right?”

“No work Tony! You need to rest. Relax. You spend too much time in the workshop. Doctor…”

“Fine. Whatever. When I get melanoma I’ll know who to blame.”

“Tony! You had a highly toxic, carcinogen in your chest for months, 30 minutes a day of sunlight doesn’t even compare.” Argued Pepper.

* * *

Tony 'gracefully acquiesced' to Peppers demands. Eventually. But only because he planned to rort the system. In Tony’s mind, enforcing too many healthy choices on the body at once could potentially be disastrous. Better to stagger them and reduce the consequences.

“Annnnnd… cut! Loop it J.”

10 minutes invested of Tony relaxing on a deck chair sipping on a vegetable smoothie (demonstrating a particular and appropriate level of disgust) and Pepper would be off his back for at least 30 minutes a day. Brilliant. The smoothie was a particularly ingenious touch as it allowed him to eat cheeseburgers for all the major meals of the day with minimum judgment.

Regrettably, Pepper was quite wiley and locked Tony out of the building on the pool deck – and yes he could have called the ironman armor to rescue him but that would be far too visible, so Tony made the best of a bad situation.

It was surprisingly easy to program Dum-E to secret a bottle of whiskey and his laptop in the cabana. A tumbler of single malt later the sun didn’t seem that intolerable. 25 minutes into the sentence he hid the evidence in the pool (obviously the robots that cleaned the pool would remove them later).

Then he just had to wait until Pepper came and released him from confinement and complain loudly and indignantly (because it wouldn’t be believable if he didn’t).

“See Tony? That wasn’t so bad, now was it?”

“Hmpf.”

* * *

This scam continued for a good fortnight, and Tony had to admit he was developing a healthy glow to his skin (not out loud though, that would be too much like admitting defeat). He’d even taken to wearing a thong because tan lines were nasty. Suddenly Tony heard the rattle of the door signifying someone was coming.

Shit! Pepper shouldn’t be here for at least another 20 minutes. He lobbed the whiskey bottle and tumbler into the pool and moved to stash his laptop in the cabana. Only… that wasn’t Pepper.

This pool was exclusively for his use Pepper said. No one would bother him, Pepper said. So who was this guy? Don’t panic Tony. Security will see something’s wrong and come… except security would just see the loop video.... dammit!

The intruder started scanning the area and shit…. dude was built… if he caught Tony he doubted he’d be able to put up much of a fight. Tony ducked behind the cabana uneasily. _It’s okay. He hasn’t seen me. Call Happy. Happy will know what to do._

“Happy?” Questioned Tony in a whisper to the phone.

“Mr. Stark?” Questioned Happy. “What seems to be the problem?”

“Happy! There’s someone here. There’s a…. a random swimsuit model on the pool deck. There’s not supposed to be anyone here!” Babbled Tony, and yeah, being abducted and held hostage in a cave in Afghanistan made a guy just a little paranoid. Go figure.

“Mr. Stark I have visuals on you right now. I don’t see any signs of an intruder.” Happy paused. “Tony, if this is a trick you should know Miss Potts has told me I’m not allowed to release you.”

“What? No! It’s a loop Happy! Look! Am I on the phone in the feed Happy? No! Now come and rescue me!”

“Nobody unauthorized has entered the tower Mr. Stark. What’s she doing? Does she know you’re there?”

“Him. He’s uh.. putting something in the pool. I think he’s poisoning the water. I don’t think he’s seen me yet. Shit. Shit! What if he hears me?”

“Calm down boss! There’s a team on the way, but I need you to keep talking to me. Is he armed? What does he look like?”

“He looks like Mr. July 2011. Uh. He has a net on a long stick.” And if that wasn’t an obvious giveaway he planned to capture someone… like one of those cliché cartoon scenes but the Coyote was 6’2” of solid muscle and the roadrunner was Tony in a thong.

“Does he have a gun Tony?”

“I don’t know! I can only see his back from here!”

“Tony settle down! The security team is right outside, we don’t want to rush in and potentially get you shot. Talk to me! What’s he doing now?”

“Uh…”

“Tony! Keep talking to me! Is he packing?”

“He’s uh.. taking off his pants. Yeah… he’s got a package alright.” Clearly a plot to draw Tony out of his hiding place. A very clever plot. Very.

“What?!? I’m sending the guys in! Tony I swear if this is a trick…”

Speedo.. net... pool... hot guy bending over… now Tony might never have seen an actual poolboy in his life, but he had seen enough porn to recognise the pattern.

Tony watched horrified as the intruder slipped into the pool, only to emerge moments later with an empty whiskey bottle. Oh. No robots then. Well. Shit.

“Abort! Abort!” Tony belted into the phone, alas it was too late .

* * *

“You had the pool technician tasered and sedated!” Exclaimed Pepper. And because this was Pepper and she’d seen some serious StarkShit(TM), there wasn’t even a hint of a question.

“How was I to know he was the pool guy?” Muttered Tony refusing to make eye contact.

“He was wearing a uniform!”

“Uh.. to be fair he could have stolen the uniform.” Injected Happy hopefully, which was nice because Tony might have to admit otherwise he had been rather distracted by what was under that uniform to notice details like ‘POOL MAINTENANCE’ written in 48pt Arial across the guys back. And front. And seriously what was this guy even doing cleaning pools instead of being a full time stripper?

“He works here Tony! This has lawsuit written all over it!”

“He took down 8 trained security guards! In a speedo! We had to do something!” Argued Happy. Unhappily. “Plus Tony said he was packing!” Gasp! Traitor!

Pepper looked at Tony. Tony looked at Pepper. Pepper looked at Tony. Tony gestured vaguely at the one way mirror where Pool Guy (formerly Mr. July) was now sitting on the side of the bed, still in that speedo and yeah now the words ‘life guard’ written across his ass was perfectly legible, because that definitely hadn’t been there before. Tony gestured to his own crotch.

Pepper could feel a migraine forming.

* * *

Steve had no idea what was going on, but he suspected he might be getting fired. Normally this wasn’t even part of his duties but the chlorine hopper was malfunctioning (Steve was paid too well to question why) and the replacement wouldn’t be installed for at least a week. It wasn’t that big of a problem, it just meant once a day Steve had to come up, test the water and occasionally throw in a few cups of chlorine. He’d been running a bit later than usual because the public pool 18 levels down had needed extra attention, but it shouldn’t have been that big of a problem. As far as he was aware no body ever even used the executive pool.

He’d done the usual, tested the water, fished out a bottle … and been attacked by a security squad.

Now some things you just didn’t do to an unsuspecting fella, especially one that was a Special Forces officer, retired or otherwise – thinking clearly had kicked in later than training this time and… yeah… here he was.

* * *

“For god sakes! Uncuff him!” Demanded the woman who had just marched in. “I’m so sorry Mr. Rogers!”

“Steve. Steve is fine.” Gulped Steve.

“I’m sorry Steve, there’s been a terrible misunderstanding.”

“Was anybody… badly hurt?” Asked Steve. Because he’d maybe, definitely broken at least one guys arm. 

“Security has excellent medical.” Pepper waved off the question absently. “Steve, I just need to ask some quick questions then we can settle this.

“Yes Ma’am.” Because Steve was no ones fool, he recognized the SI CEO and realized this was moderately serious. He also wished someone had thought to offer him a towel or shirt or something.

“Steve, I understand there was no maintenance scheduled for the exec pool today, can you tell us what you were doing there?”

“Oh. Well someone has been dumping this green stuff in the hopper and…”

“Interrupting!” Announced Tony entering the room. Because Pepper did not need to know that the green stuff in this hopper thing may or may not be a vegetable based smoothie. “I take full responsibility! I over reacted! Unbelievable but true! Focus people! Me!”

“Mr. Stark.” Stated Steve, while Pepper gave him the ‘Lawsuit Tony!’ glare.

“I think we all learned a valuable lesson today. In the future, Happy won’t Taser unsuspecting people without checking their identity. Pepper should have already known better than to leave me unsupervised. Security squad learned they are not prepared to handle a single guy in a thong. Ba da bing. Ba da boom. Lets leave it at that and get back to work.”

“Uh… okay? And it's a swim brief.” Answered Steve, who was due at the public pool at 2pm. A quick glance at the clock suggested he’d been out about an hour already.

“Hey Steve.” Said new guy at the door. Barnes. Pool Manager. Because Tony was learning reading things like nametags was useful. Barnes glanced around the room at a smug Tony and a flummoxed Pepper. “Security said they’d tasered Mr. July in a swimsuit so I figured you’d need clothes.”

“I did not call him that.” Denied Tony on principle.

“It happens more often than you might think.” Stated Barnes gesturing. “You put that in a speedo and you’re bound to have trouble.”

“It’s the uniform Buck!” Scowled Steve turning red. But he didn’t deny it, because yeah… there had been incidents… but they didn’t usually involve Tasers.

“Anyway Stevie, Nat is taking your afternoon shift so no need to hurry.” Barnes passed Pool gu… Steve the clothing. “Take the rest of the week, need to let the tranqs run their course before I can put you back on duty.”

Steve nodded. He was still a bit woozy from the sedative, so it wasn’t unreasonable.

“Full pay of course.” Stated Barnes, daring Tony or Pepper to argue. Bucky knew if he left this to Steve he’d say it was just a mistake. “Go get dressed Steve. I need to discuss with Mr. Stark why one of my staff got attacked for doing their job.”

“I'm sure it was just a misundersta...”

“GO get dressed Steve.” Snapped Barnes. “And Steve? Let Nat know she won.”

* * *

Pepper had discovered everything. The booze. The video loop. The smoothie. Ev. Er. E. Thing. This put Tony back at square one. Worse than square one, he was in the negatives. At least there was a silver lining on this particular storm cloud.

“Mr. Stark? If you let pool management know when you will be using the pool, we can schedule the water testing so we wont bother you.” Suggested Steve.

“Its fine Steve.” Answered Tony, waving with a glass of… ugh… green stuff. “Its not like I’m out here to swim. Could I get you to do me a favor though, I dropped my keys again?”

“Certainly Mr. Stark.” Replied Steve, shrugging out of his shirt and wondering if it would be rude of him to offer Mr. Stark one of the floating keyrings the pool staff used. Mr. Stark sure dropped his keys a lot.

…and yeah Tony needed to do something about the ‘Mr. Stark’ part.

“You know Steve, you should just call me Tony.” Suggested Tony when Steve resurfaced. And yeah it made the smoothie much more palatable when you were this thirsty.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony was looking industriously busy when Pepper arrived in the workshop, which was ridiculous because it was 8am and Tony didn’t get out of bed until at least 10.

“Tony.”

“Can’t talk Pep. Busy working on the stuff for SI. The stuff you wanted last week. Overdue. Must work.” Niiiice…

“Tony. Explain to me why the morning news has footage of Ironman being arrested in Central Park.”

_Distraction missed!_

“It’s the paparazzi Pep. They’re very, very persistent. They follow me everywhere.”

_Obfuscation was ineffective!_

“Tony. What were you doing in Central Park at 3am?”

“Eh… collecting leaves.” Admitted Tony, because maybe Pepper wouldn’t ask why.

_Hope failed!_

“Why?”

“Because it would be weird if I collected them during the daytime?”

_Pepper used Glare. It was super effective._

* * *

Pepper never did get a satisfactory answer as to why Tony needed those leaves, but that’s probably because she had better things to do with her time than wonder about Tony’s sudden onset chlorophilia. This left Tony relatively unsupervised to dash out to the pool and scatter leaves over the surface. The keys thing, while effective, had come to an end when Happy found and took his keys back (the taking back of which was rather verbally abusive about Tony’s person (specifically his genitals and their proximity to his temples – maybe Happy needed some sexual sensitivity training… or at least basic human anatomy lessons)– of course Tony didn’t have his own keys, that’s what Jarvis had voice codes for, duh!).

Steve would arrived at 11.32, Tony would wander out at 11.34 and enjoy a light lunch and Steve’s perfect ass bending over to scoop out those leaves. A perfect date - dinner and a show.

Or at least that was the plan. It was 11.36 and no Steve. Tony hovered uncertainly at his normal deck chair.

“Holy shit! We’re on like the 90th floor! How do leaves even get up here?”

Tony startled. While the idea of Steve having a potty mouth might be appealing that was definitely not Steve’s voice.

“Steve wasn’t wrong about you being jumpy.” Said the new voice.

Barton. Pool Maintenance. Hu. Nametags. So useful.

“You’re not Steve.” Stated Tony intelligently.

“Clint. Steve doesn’t work Sundays. ” And yeah that made sense. Pepper didn’t work Sundays either, which was probably why she’d been so annoyed this morning. 

“Uh. Okay.” Tony morosely poked the sandwiches around the plate as Clint scooped the leaves and talked about his wife and kids. Clint did the water testy thing and left.

Clint stole Tony’s leaves.

* * *

The Pool Staff had a pool. A betting pool.

The betting pool was based on how long it would take one Tony Stark (former playboy) to notice and pursue any new staff member of the attractive variety.

About the time Steve had arrived however something had happened. The gossip magazines had suggested Stark was in a serious relationship with Potts, but there was also the fact that Stark was rarely seen in public. Seemed frightened when he was. If there was one thing Barnes was familiar with, it was PTSD.

The old Stark would have sniffed Steve in his swimmers out within a day. The new Stark had an aversion to public places and strangers. From Barnes point of view it was kind of good because Steve was a great employee and it would be a shame to lose him to the whirlwind that was Tony Stark. Steve had lasted 3 months already, and that was, quite frankly, a new record.

That was until last week, when Nat had declared that Stark would notice Steve in the next 24 hours. She had insider information about the chlorine hopper of course (but no one was going to call her on it... this was Nat after all).

“Whoa!” Said Clint when Natasha made to collect. “He’s noticed but he hasn’t acted! You haven’t won yet.”

“Who wouldn’t act? It’s Steve! I’d dump Barnes in a heartbeat if I thought Steve was interested in women!” Which might be more insulting if Bucky hadn’t caught himself having impure thoughts about Steve a couple of times himself.

Steve’s strike zone was still a mystery to them all - but the chances Stark fell in it were good given Steve’s asshole ex had been around a couple of times causing trouble, and the bar had been surprisingly low. Bucky had been concerned when the guy came making demands right up till Steve punched him in the gut and put him out in a sleeper hold. Everyone made bad choices at some stage, so Bucky didn’t ask, he just made sure security kept the guy out after that.

Which would have been the end of it if Steve didn’t continue making bad choices that stalked him (literally).

From Bucky’s point of view the reason for Steve’s poor choices was blindingly obvious. Steve was incredibly obtuse to flirting.

Simply put Steve was an idiot, and only the most obvious cat calls registered. You didn’t politely offer to buy someone like that a drink, you had to grope them good before they got the point (and even then Buck wasn’t convinced Steve wouldn’t apologize for hitting their hand with his ass). That sort of creeper was not usually good news.

Speaking of creepers Rumlow from security had been sniffing around earlier which could only be trouble. Rumlow was wearing a cast on his left arm, which would normally make Bucky’s day until the guy asked after Steve. Rumlow had a history of harassing staff, both male and female, but hadn’t been bothering the pool area since Nat (her words) ‘set boundaries’ with him last year.

“Rumlow was here looking for Steve earlier.” He stated morosely.

“Oh god no. He’s exactly Steve’s type.” Groaned Natasha. “He’s better off with Stark.” Because Stark might be a (self proclaimed) slut, but at least he was good to his partners, and unlikely to stalk Steve later making demands.

“Uh. Excuse me?” Tony announced from the door. He needed those leaves back because Pepper had explicitly forbidden him from going back to Central Park to get more.

“Mr. Stark?” Asked Barnes uncertain of how much of the conversation he had heard. Probably none since he wasn’t agreeing whole heartedly. “Is there a problem?”

“No. Just.” Tony froze. Too many unknown people and no Pepper, Happy or Rhodey. He pointed at Clint who still had the sodden bag of leaves.

“You want this?” When Tony nodded Clint handed the bag over. Tony might not like being handed things but those were his goddamn leaves that he spent half the night collecting.

“Thanks. Clint.” Tony took the bag and sort of shuffled a bit, but didn’t leave.

“Steve will be back on tomorrow. Same time as usual.” Offered Natasha.

Tony nodded and left.


	3. Chapter 3

“I’m sorry Mr. Rumlow…”

“Brock.” Interrupted Rumlow. Again.

“I’m sorry, Brock, but I’m on duty, I can’t talk to you right now.”

“You broke my arm Steve, but I’m a reasonable man. I just need some company while it recovers. Someone to help me with some... things… at home until it’s healed.” Truthfully he had come with the intent of shaking Steve down for some compensation money but _hellooo_, Stark hadn’t been wrong calling the guy Mr. July. 

“I… I understand.” Replied Steve. After all it had been his fault. If Rumlow needed someone to vacuum his house and clean his bathroom for a couple weeks it really wasn’t that much to ask. “I get off at six.”

“…and Steve? Don’t tell anyone about our… arrangement.” Steve didn’t see why not, but then maybe Rumlow didn’t want anyone to know he was struggling - Steve could understand being ashamed of having to rely on others.

* * *

“Mr. Stark.” Stated Steve. It was not a question. It was very reminiscent of Pepper. Very. Tony pretended he didn’t hear the not-question. It wasn’t very effective with Pepper either but it usually gave him a few extra minutes to come up with an alibi.

“Mr. Stark,” Repeated Steve. “Did you put these leaves in the pool?” It was an actual question this time, which meant it required an actual answer. Of sorts.

“No?” Oops. Syntax error. “I mean… No!” Steve looked skeptical. Was this a common knowledge thing that you didn’t get leaves on the 90th floor? Maybe it was pool-guy working knowledge… or maybe Clint snitched. Clint looked like the type. “I can say with 100% certainty I did not put those leaves in the pool.”

Dum-E squirked indignantly and tossed the empty sack at Tony’s head.

“No Dum-E, it is definitely not the same thing.” Tony lowered his sunglasses to glare at the bot.

Steve, who again was generously paid to not ask too many questions, got back to work scooping leaves with the net thingie. MmMmm bend and snap. Work it Steve.

“Mr. Stark?” Asked Steve suddenly.

“I thought I said to just call me Tony, Steve.” Admonished Tony

“Tony, this one has some kind of equations on it.” Steve held up the offending leaf. And… yeah… Tony had run out of room on the pizza box sooo… “Is it important?”

“Well that would depend on you opinion of linear elasticity Steve.” Replied Tony off hand.

“It’s absolute garbage and should be banned. Non-linear elasticity or GTFO.” Said Steve without blinking.

“You have no idea what you just said. “ Accused Tony covering his lap with a towel because _fuck!_ Steve talking continuum mechanics was making blood run to certainly inappropriate and probably lawsuit writing, places.

“Maybe.” Admitted Steve, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Or maybe just comically. It was hard to tell on someone as hot as Steve. “But I have the math to back up my claims.” Steve held up the leaf which really just contained a few quick calculations and ‘fuck you Fermi!’ written in Tony’s scrawl at the bottom. “What evidence do you have?"

* * *

“So Pepper. How feasible is it to get a tree put out next to the pool?”

“No tree Tony.”

“For the carbon foot-printing Pepper! The carbons!”

“SI already has a negative footprint Tony.”

“Just a small one then.”

“You already have palms Tony.”

“I need one that drops leaves.” He whined.

Because over the course of the week he had already denuded all the indoor plants in the executive offices, including two plastic ones that had made Steve give him a very suspicious look indeed.

“Look. Tony. This is a one time only statement and not to be extrapolated after this point as permission for anything or anybody else. One time...“

“Really Pepper..." gasped Tony, "when did I ever…” and yeah… okay maybe he had abused that before and Pepper was perfectly justified in her very specific acquiescence for a reason.

“Just ask him out already.” Continued Pepper with a groan.

“Why Pepper…. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Replied Tony indignantly, clutching at imaginary pearls.

“Steve.” Stated Pepper. When Tony refused to make eye contact, Pepper continued. “Ask. Steve. Out.”

“Steeeve? The pool-guy Steve?” Pepper gave him _the look_ (the hairy eyeball one). Tony cleared his throat. “He can’t. He’s busy.”

“What?” Demanded Pepper.

“Uh… I asked him already. He said no. He has another job.”

“Doing what?” Stated Happy, who was for whatever reason listening into Tony’s very private and decidedly humiliating conversation with Pepper.

“He didn’t say. I’m betting stripper. Maybe escort.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Tony.” Interrupted Pepper. Which was reassuring “A stripper that looked like Steve wouldn’t need a day job cleaning pools.” She continued, which was not nearly as reassuring.

Pepper loved Tony. Really she did. Piney-whiney Tony not-so-much, but Tony absolutely. “Happy. Have him followed.”

* * *

It turned out when Steve Rogers said he couldn’t cook, it wasn’t just lip service. And definitely not the type of lip service Brock had planned on getting tonight.

“I… I told you I didn’t know how to use a gas cooktop!” Justified Steve, poking desperately at the fire alarm with a broom.

Three nights. Three nights Steve had come to his apartment, as agreed, and all that Brock had gotten out of it was some rather irate neighbors, a slightly blackened kitchen, a very clean bathtub (and yeah, watching Steve scrub the bathroom floor had been a treat in itself), and a severe case of blue balls.

As unlikely as it might be, it turned out rather direct lines like ‘I want your ass in the air’ could be translated as ‘scrub the bathroom floor’. ‘Eat me out’ as ‘cook me dinner’ and ‘suck me off’ as ‘vacuum the carpet’. Brock was determined that there would be no misconception on Steve’s part tonight.

“Brock… I think it’s stopped! I… I can clean this up!” Steve looked around the kitchen morosely. “Mostly.”

“Steve.” Demanded Brock pushing the blonde against the wall.

“Don’t get angry I…” Brock pushed one thigh between Steve’s legs, pinning both of Steve’s hands above his head with his good arm. “Oh. Uhh..”

“Shut up Steve.” Barked Rumlow, rutting against Steve’s hip. Rumlow was probably just in a bad mood because he couldn’t get Steve’s belt undone with his broken arm (and maybe the burnt out kitchen wasn’t helping). Steve of course was at a loss as to whether he was supposed to offer help or not given the circumstance.

“I’m not really comfortable with this.” Steve decided after another minute of Brock's fumbling. "I need you to back off.” Establishing boundaries was important (and according to Natasha, Steve’s main weak point). Natasha also said it was important to follow through when your boundaries weren’t respected. Solar plexus, instep, nose, groin.


	4. Chapter 4

“Mr. Hogan.” Said Steve.

“Steve.” Said Happy.

It would have been a little difficult for Happy to explain why he was breaking into Rumlow’s apartment in the middle of the night.

It might have been even more difficult for Steve to explain why his knee was currently embedded in Rumlow’s nether regions.

It was literally physically impossible for Rumlow to explain anything at all.

‘I.. uh… I heard an alarm.” Stated Happy.

“Yes.” Said Steve, with a particularly forced monotone. “There was a fire. I put it out.”

“I… I can see that.” Gulped Happy, watching Rumlow slide to the floor in agony. Steve reached down with a gentle hand and.. aww god no… ew… realigned Rumlow’s nose with a practiced snap, eliciting a pained howl from Rumlow.

“Sooooo… you and Rumlow?” Asked Happy.

“No!” Said Steve firmly. “It was just a… a misunderstanding.”

Happy had done a little research and apparently Steve had had a lot of misunderstandings since joining SI. It wasn’t a stretch to see why. Steve oozed sensuality and mixed signals, which was a dangerous combination when combined with a swimsuit (the rockin’ bod sure didn’t help either).

“But you do like dudes right?” Asked Happy, in his own way trying to collect data for the boss man. “Are you seeing anybody? Got a type?”

“I don’t know… I’ve always had a thing for brunettes but...” Steve suddenly gasped, seeming to have read more into Happy asking than he’d intended because he not very subtly covered his nipples (which was frankly ridiculous because he didn’t always wear a shirt at work anyways, and the downstairs was still completely on display) and turned an accusing glare at Happy.

“No! NoNoNo!” Happy could say he’d never been interested in men in his life but even he could admit he’d probably make an exception for Steve with the tiniest shred of encouragement. “Asking for a friend! I have a thing. A sex thing. With a different friend. Who is a woman. Happy Hogan is 100% about the ladies.” Well. 99.9% but Steve didn’t need ambiguity right now.

“I thought he just wanted some help with housework!” Defended Steve with a pout, arranging Rumlow’s limbs into the coma position. “Should I call an ambulance or something?” 

“Nah. He’s breathing.” Happy waved it off. “But Steve. This might be an awkward question… but…. why are you naked?”

“Rumlow said the material wasn’t flame retardant and I should take off my clothes.” Happy just looked at Steve askance. "Uh. It's gas." Finished Steve. 

“Ah. I see. So that’s what it is.” Pepper had asked him to keep an eye on Tony’s latest crush, make sure it wouldn’t affect Tony’s already fragile mental state. Steve wasn’t another gold digging, Daddy Chaser, he was just a goddamn hot idiot. It was a match made in heaven. Tony had always been an absolute moronosexual.

“What?” Asked Steve, who had been busy pulling his t-shirt back on.

“Nothing. Nothing.”

* * *

“…and then Happy gave me a lift home. I was so surprised to find out you were my landlord.” Finished Steve wringing his hands. “Are you sure you don’t have anything better to be doing Mr. Stark?”

“Whaaat? No! This is totally part of my job Steve. I do this all the time.” Because there had to be a reason why Happy knew exactly where Steve lived, and Happy was about as quick on the draw as Tony when a semi-naked Steve distracted him. “It’s important that a landlord looks after his tenants, and didn’t I say already to just call me Tony?” How hard could plumbing be? He graduated MIT at 15, this would be a cake walk in comparison. He smacked the clampy tooly thing against pipey mcpipeface a few times for effect. Cake. Walk.

“Yeah. That looks better already.” Stated Tony closing the cupboard quickly.He taped the door closed. Hopefully the duct tape would keep the gas in.

“You make it look so easy!” Declared Steve.

“Well, I am a genius.” Pointed out Tony, rapid texting Jarvis to report a gas leak. “Just need to let that settle for a bit. Uh… depressurize. And. Uh. Stuff.” And get Steve out of the apartment before his water heater exploded. “Cake. Lets go eat some.”

“I’ve got toaster waffles.” Offered Steve.

“Uh, billionaire Steve, I don’t do frozen. Cake. Walk faster.” Demanded Tony, in direct contradiction to the fact his last meal had consisted of a frozen burrito and a bag of turkey dinosaurs. Dummy was getting good at using the microwave. “Faster Steve.” Urged Tony as a ConEdison van pulled up outside the building.

This was technically a date now, right?


	5. Chapter 5

This was definitely a date. Totally how dates usually went. Tony knew. He had been on a lot of dates. He did kind of regret that the best table in the restaurant happened to have a window though.

“That’s totally not your building Steve.” Explained Tony for the third time as another fire truck went by. “Don’t you think some one would have called me by now if my building was on fire?”

“I guess.” Admitted Steve. Steve was very flustered. Probably uncomfortable because Tony hadn’t given him time to get his jacket and shoes when they’d left his apartment. He shouldn’t be. Dress codes were for people who weren’t dating Tony Stark anyway. 

“I recommend the tortellini.” Tony waved away the very agitated Maître D’ who kept trying to pass him messages. Jeez you turn off your phone for ten minutes and the harassment starts. It was important to turn off your phone during a date to avoid interruptions – like reminders that you had a board meeting right now or angry fire chiefs and stuff like that. It was just polite after all.

“I thought we were just getting cake?”

“It’s dinner Steve. You have the cake after. The tiramisu here is to die for.”

“It’s 2pm Mr. Stark. I don’t think the kitchen will be serving …” Tony put a finger on Steve’s lips to stop him talking (Steve had nice lips, very soft, 10/10 Tony’s would touch again). The kitchen was always open. Because he was Tony Stark. Management would totally agree because as of 11 minutes ago he was management.

“Shh shh shh,” Tutted Tony. “It’s an Italian restaurant Steve. It’s dinner time in Italy right now.” And Tony needed as least two courses to give the iron legion time to move all of Steve’s stuff out. You couldn’t very well burn down a guys apartment and not at least rescue as much of his stuff as possible.

Steve wasn’t entirely sure that’s how it worked, but he’d served overseas and understood time zones, so it kind of made sense. Kind of. “Oh. Uh. Okay?” He said.

Pepper arrived at the same time as the charcuterie. Not the dude with the big grinder thing, the other Pepper. The one with the tappy louboutins and angry bird eyebrows.

“Prosciutto?” Offered Tony.

Pepper was very, very good at putting together Tony-related circumstances. Like, insanely good. Sherlock Holmes good. Tony’s overnight purchase of an apartment complex. Happy’s assertion that it wasn’t his fault. Subsequent purchase of nearby Italian restaurant. Possibly in shock Steve with no shoes. Tony’s text about 15 minutes ago asking whether it would be too presumptuous to move Steve straight into his own suite or should he give him his own room first.

Maybe that last one had been the straw that broke the camels back. Tony covered Steve’s ears.

“Tony!” Growled Pepper. “What have I said about blowing up residential properties to get people to like you!” She demanded. It was not a question.

“I thought we weren’t going to bring up Malibu anymore Pepper? That’s just low.” Pepper said some words. Ooo. Spicy. “You really need to get over me, Pep. I’ve moved on now.” Pepper said even more words that Tony was very glad Steve couldn’t hear. That was just plain filthy and frankly, frankly physically impossible.

Tony turned Steve’s head toward the wall so he wouldn’t see Tony gesturing at a drone outside. It held up an ugly plaid shirt on a hanger. Tony shook his head and pointed at the trashcan. Jarvis had made the right call checking in, some things did _not_ need to be saved (also, Steve could just wear his work uniform around the penthouse until Tony arranged some new things - he has a feeling it might take a while).

“Anyway Pep, is there any reason you’re interrupting my daaa… important, business dinner with Mr. Rogers?”

“Dinner? It’s mid-afternoon Tony!” Accused Pepper. Steve, who had lost interest with the wall turned around to look at Tony with narrowed eyes. The moment Steve opened his mouth to speak Tony shoved the prosciutto in it. Steve was forced to chew or choke which gave him important seconds to deal with Pepper. “You missed the board meeting Tony! It was important.”

“I’m the majority shareholder Pep, they can’t make decisions without my permission so it could hardly be _that_ important.” Stated Tony. “Besides. This is an important meeting too.”

“I don’t think it’s that import…” Steve glared at Tony around the chunk of bread Tony shoved in his mouth.

“Shhh Steve. All of my staff at SI are just as important to me as my board members. I value everyone’s opinion. Why, I bet you have plenty of opinions on how we could improve the pool area.”

Tony’s voice dripped sincerity, making Steve pause. “Well, I have thought for a while it would be better if our uniform had more coverage…” Suggested Steve.

“Uh. Hell no.” Stated Tony flatly.

“They get to wear trunks AND a shirt at the YMCA!” Defended Steve.

“Beyond my control! Take it up with pool management.” Declared Tony. He shoved an olive in Steve’s mouth just in case he had any other suggestions.

* * *

“…and then he bent me over the table and grabbed me from behind and just kind of… unf!” Steve mimed something that was either the Heimlich maneuver or the world’s shortest porno.

“Uh huh.” Said Bucky. He was busy overseeing the installation of his new 10-seat hot tub. Pool management had been very amenable to not changing the uniform. Pool management had also agreed it would be okay for Steve to stay at the tower until his apartment was repaired. Pool management’s new car was arriving Friday.

“He saved my life!” Said Steve, with a melodramatic sigh. “I think… I think I’m falling for him.”

“Yup.” Said Bucky.

“I know, I know… you’re right… he’s my boss. I shouldn’t think about him that way. “

“I really don’t think he’ll mind.” Said Bucky.

“You’re absolutely right. I should keep it professional.”

“Uh. No. You should go with your feelings.”

“I can stay with you and Nat until my apartment is fixed!” Declared Steve.

Steve had stayed with Nat and Bucky for a month when he first moved back to New York. It had been hell. Innocent, sweet, lovely, daytime Steve brought home a different douche bag every couple of days for ridiculously loud sexy times. Like seriously, Bucky had thought he had pretty good stamina, but this was diabolical. Personally, as a (mostly) heterosexual man, he did not need to know that bedroom!Steve A. was a biter, B. was a size queen, or C. liked dirty talk (which was quite the shock since notbedroom!Steve couldn’t swear without stuttering).

To sum it up, every other night it sounded like there was a hyperventilating giant with Tourettes running around in flip-flops in the spare room.

To top it off, Nat was competitive and Buck had barely survived.

To be fair, Steve only slept with people he was in love with. Just… he fell in love very easily and had bad taste. Inevitably, Steve’s lover would say something toxic (usually the next day at breakfast, apparently you could rough Steve up all you wanted in the bedroom, but don’t you dare insult his pancakes), Steve would get angry and they’d dump him. Which was fine, Steve didn’t need garbage like that hanging around. Or it would be fine if they weren’t back 24 hours later begging to be forgiven. To be fair, once the hangover wore off and you realized you’d dumped the best fuck of your life… you’d be crazy not to try. More than once Bucky had had to get the power hose out at work to discourage one of Steve’s stalkers. He’d almost be worried if Steve didn’t fall out of love even faster than he fell in (and also have a penchant for breaking arms).

“No!” Shouted Bucky. “Uh… I mean, it would be rude! Didn’t you say Mr. Stark already had your stuff moved?”

“I don’t think he’d really mind.”

“No Steve. He’s your landlord, he must feel terrible about this. It’s his job to provide you with alternative accommodation until its fixed. Do you want him to feel inadequate?”

“I guess…”

* * *

“Mr. Rogers. If you at any point feel uncomfortable, or if Tony does anything you’re unhappy about, I want you to contact me immediately.” She pushed a business card into his hands. Then another one into his swimsuit, (because she was only human). “SI has a suite at the Four Seasons on hold so it would be no problem to have you moved somewhere… safer.”

“Okay, that’s enough Pep. He gets the idea. If he needs something call you.”

“Anytime Steve. It doesn’t matter what time it is. If you need anything or if he touches you inappropriately, you ha…” Tony decided that that was quite enough of that and cut her off.

“He gets it, he gets it… if he needs some shampoo or something I’ll give you a call.” He turned to address Steve. “You’d think running SI would be enough for her, but she’s always looking for more to do. Workaholic! Am I right?” He skillfully slipped the card from Steve’s fingers and flipped it into the trash can.

“Seriously Steve. Call me. Anything.”

"Uh... I can give him what he needs. Right Steve?" Asked Tony. "Do you need anything?"

“I could use some clothing?” Suggested Steve. He didn’t like to ask but apparently none of his had survived the fire. Mysteriously, while he was on pool duty his street clothes had also been stolen. Except his socks of course. Tony liked the idea of Steve in socks.

“You won’t be needing clothing while you’re here, Steve.” Declared Tony, patting Steve’s bottom possessively. Presumably because that was the only part of Steve that had clothing on at the moment and not because yum. Tony patted it again just to be sure. “Uh.. Of course I mean, because you can borrow some of mine?”

Steve looked down at Tony. Down down. Doooown. And frowned.

“Excuse you!” Tony gasped.

“I didn’t say anything!” Defended Steve.

“But you thought it! Loudly!” Accused Tony.

* * *

Apparently Steve thought Tony was kidding. And that’s how Tony found out that Walmart was not just an internet meme. Apparently it was fine to shop at Walmart in just a bathrobe.

“I still can’t believe you can buy that much underwear for a dollar.” Mused Tony, who had always personally moved between the two extremes of ridiculously expensive underwear or no underwear at all. Tony had personally purchased 50 pairs. Because being rich didn’t mean you didn’t know a bargain when you saw it. And sure he wasn’t going to wear it himself, he had standards after all, but Rhodey? Rhodey had a birthday coming up.

“Thanks for the lift Tony. You really, really didn’t have to do that.” Said Steve. And he meant it. Arriving at Walmart in a stretch limo was a bit… yeah…

“Of course I did.” Lied Tony. He really wouldn’t have had to do it if Steve had just followed through with the original plan of living in the penthouse full time in just his lifeguard briefs. Steve could have gone naked while they were in the wash. Tony wouldn’t have minded at all. “Not just because I’m your landlord,” (who accidentally blew up your apartment), “this is just one of the benefits of having a friend.”

Steve didn’t have a lot of friends in New York. Just Bucky, Nat, Clint and 38 restraining orders. It felt nice to have another friend.

As Steve had predicted (but not said, he still hadn’t decided if it was just part of being a genius or if Tony was telepathic) Tony’s clothes were much too tight on the chest, too loose in the waist and far, far too short on the leg. A quick trip to Walmart and he had a replacement wardrobe of polo’s and khakis which were all consistently cheap and ugly. Luckily, in Tony’s opinion, the rest of Steve balanced it out just fine.


End file.
